


I Don't Even Know Why I Push You Like That

by spuffyduds



Category: Durham County, due South
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set in sionnain and waltzforanight's "What Else Would You Have Me Be" verse, in which Mike moves to Chicago after the first season of Durham County. They're in a fairly kinky consensual relationship, although the kink actually mentioned in this story is fairly mild.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Don't Even Know Why I Push You Like That

**Author's Note:**

> Set in sionnain and waltzforanight's "What Else Would You Have Me Be" verse, in which Mike moves to Chicago after the first season of Durham County. They're in a fairly kinky consensual relationship, although the kink actually mentioned in this story is fairly mild.

"What the _fuck_ were you doing?" Mike says, and he tightens his hand on Ray's shoulder even more, pushes him back even harder against the headboard. The ridges on the headboard rails dig into Ray's back and hurt like hell, and he grins up at Mike, because this is good and it's just gonna get better.

"What did you _want_?" Mike says.

"Wanted you to do _this_," Ray says, and arches up into Mike's weight, presses his hard-on up against Mike's thigh, and, because he's kind of a dick, adds, "I win."

"Bullshit," Mike says, and lifts himself up off Ray suddenly, stops touching him anywhere. Ray panics for a second until Mike pulls the leather cuffs out from under the bed. Ray relaxes into that, the tight clasp around his wrists crazy-making and comforting at the same time, but then after Mike clips the cuffs to the headboard he sits back, away from Ray, no touching again, not good.

"Hey, no, get back here," Ray says.

"I said that was bullshit, because you don't have to work that hard to piss me off. Nowhere near that hard, and you know it. So what. The fuck. Was that?"

Ray blinks at him, because, yeah, that's right, he does know it. He hadn't realized it until just then. but he does. So...what the hell _had_ he been trying to do?

***************************

They'd just recently come out to Frannie--on the "couple" part of things, not the "leaving Ray with bruises all over" part of things, and the first time they saw her after that was when they were helping her move out into her own place. She had a couple women from the 2-7 helping too, and a few big strapping guys who Ray'd met before because they were some vague degree of Vecchio cousin, and she'd called Ray beforehand to let him know, "Everybody knows, don't worry about it, you can snuggle or whatever."

"Yeah," Mike said when Ray passed that on, "I was really worried I wasn't gonna get to take a _snuggle break_ while I was trying to haul a washing machine up the stairs."

"Look at it this way," Ray said, "We can skip the whole rest of the coming-out process, because Frannie will tell everyone else in the greater Chicago territories."

Turned out she didn't have all that much stuff, since she was moving out of a single room at the Vecchios', with just a few things she'd had in storage since her marriage broke up. Which made for a pretty light workday, but meant once she ordered the traditional thanks-for-helping pizzas and broke out the beers, there wasn't much of anywhere to sit--a couple armchairs, a couple folding chairs, some boxes.

Ray and Mike were the last out of the kitchen because Ray was enjoying Mike's routine of making faces at all the American beer brands while Frannie wasn't looking. And when they stepped out into the living room, Ray spotted that there was just one actual chair left, and he dove for it.

Mike glared at him but folded himself awkwardly to the floor and leaned back against Ray's knees.

"You comfy there, Mike?" Frannie said and started to get up out of her chair, and Mike sat forward away from Ray's legs like he was gonna trade with her, and some evil part of Ray's brain--the dickhead lobe, or something--made him say, "Yeah, Mikey loves sitting at my feet, right?"

Frannie giggled and sat back down, and Mike leaned back against Ray's legs but his back was all tensed up now, and Ray just drank his beer and ate his pizza and grinned, because he was gonna be paying for that later, in the best possible way.

*****************************************

And for a minute it looks like that's gonna work out, because Mike's yanking Ray's shoes off, his socks and pants and undershorts, and then shoving Ray's shirt up under his armpits, and Mike hasn't taken a thing off yet, he's still got his hoodie on, even. And as much as Ray loves the feel of all Mike's skin against his, he also fucking loves being stripped for Mike when Mike isn't, when Mike's standing there calm and in control and dressed and Ray's hand's are clipped up above his head and Mike could do anything to him, anything.

But then Mike _isn't_ doing anything, nothing fantastic or painful or painful and fantastic, just standing there looking at Ray. And his expression isn't one of the heated-up ones Ray's used to seeing when they're like this, it looks...like he's working a bad case, he looks intent and puzzled and tired.

"Why'd you push like that, with people around, people you know?" he says, softly. "Was that a _test_? See if I'd snap and shove you down on the floor or something, in front of your friends?"

He sits down on the bed, still too far away, and says, "I wouldn't do that."

"I know," Ray says. It comes out kind of strangled; it feels like the muscles in his throat are clenching up.

"What was it a test for, then?" Mike says, and Ray tries to shrug, _what test, no test, don't know what you're talking about, test who?_ but he can't shrug with his arms cuffed above his head, and then his shoulders start shaking instead and it spreads through the rest of him.

"So, it _was_ a test," Mike says, fuck he's good, someday Ray has got to date somebody who isn't a fucking lawyer or a cop, because he _hates_ having someone figure him out when _he's_ still working on it, dammit. But then Mike reaches out and just draws one finger down Ray's ribs, and that fingertip is shockingly warm, moving slowly down, and Ray gasps and arches, and even though he's cold everywhere else he's still so fucking hard.

Mike doesn't touch his dick though, just cups his hand over Ray's hipbone when he gets to it, but just that hot curve of skin against Ray calms him down a little until Mike says quietly, almost whispers, "What'd you think I was gonna do, Ray?"

****************************************************

Ray couldn't seem to stop fucking with Mike's head after the "likes sitting at my feet," comment.He'd alternate chatting with Frannie and everybody for a while and then finding some small way to piss Mike off.

He hooked a knee over Mike's shoulder and rested his foot on Mike's thigh, and Mike shoved it off with an angry little snort like a bull, which cracked Ray up.

He rubbed Mike's head, leaning down close so he could hear Mike whisper, "You're pushing it, Kowalski."

Finally, last straw--and he _knew_ that, so why'd he do it?--he tapped Mike on the back of his neck, and when Mike whipped his head around, mouth open, probably to tell Ray to fucking _stop_ it, Ray had a piece of pizza right there so the point of it just popped right into Mike's mouth.

"Awwww, you're _feeding_ him," Frannie said, but it sounded very small and far away because Mike suddenly looked--Ray'd never seen him like this. Seen him angry plenty of times, furious even, mostly at the world but sometimes at Ray, but now his eyes were just...dead and flat, like something giant-reptile-y out of a monster movie. Something that was gonna kill you, not even because it was mad, but just because you were in the way.

Ray eased the pizza out carefully. Mike hadn't even bitten down.

Ray sat the pizza down on a box next to his chair, and Mike looked at him all flat and deadly for a few seconds longer that lasted about twelve years, and then stood up.

So, that was it, then, and Ray was pretty sure he was gonna throw up.

But Mike grabbed Ray's wrist, hard, and said, "Hey, Frannie, thanks for the beer, nice to meet all you folks, we gotta head out, long day tomorrow," nice as you please, and hauled Ray to standing and then let go of him.

Frannie thanked them for the help, and promised to have them over for real food as soon as she had a real table and real chairs, or maybe before that so they could help put the table and chairs together.

And Mike didn't talk to Ray or touch him or look at him all the way to the car, all the long drive home, but Ray managed to decide that this was normal "gonna fuck Ray through the floor in a pissed-off way as soon as we get home" stuff, managed to tell himself that over and over, managed to not think at all, at all, about that moment of Mike standing up alone and Ray's stomach cramping.

*******************************************

Now, though, now Ray's stripped and shivering (and he's not freaking out, okay, he's just cold) and Mike's hand on his hip is almost burning him but it's resting there too lightly, not digging in, not bruising, just barely there like something that only lit there for a moment and could fly off again any second, and Ray glances at his bedroom door and blurts out, "Don't leave."

Mike looks _surprised_, and Ray shuts his fucking mouth, bites his lip even, but it's too late, because Mike says, "Oh."

And then leans over Ray, still just touching him with one hand, and whispers in his ear, "You checking to see if I was gonna walk out on you, Kowalski? If I was gonna just bail, in front of your friends, if you were enough of a dick?"

He leans even closer so his lips are brushing Ray's ear, and Ray just feels like _screaming_ because he wants Mike to touch him and fuck him and bite him and he wants Mike to just go ahead and fucking leave, get the leaving that he's _going_ to do at some point over with so Ray can stop _waiting_ for it. And Mike says, breathing in Ray's ear, "Aren't you supposed to be the one who can _talk_ about things, here? You want to know if I'm going anywhere, Kowalski, why don't you ask?"

"You going anywhere, Sweeney?" Ray says, but his eyes are closed when he says it, and then Mike takes his hand off Ray's hip, takes his lips away from Ray's ear, fuck, _fuck_.

But then there are zipper and button noises and then Ray's suddenly hot all over because Mike's all over him, warm skin and bruising hands and his teeth sunk into Ray's shoulder, and Ray's arching up against him, panting and moaning. Mike runs his hands up Ray's arms, links fingers with him above the cuffs, sucks at his earlobe. Mike's hard, shoving against Ray's hip and that feels so fucking good, Ray could come just from this and it's like Mike hears him because he growls, "Not yet."

He pulls away again but this time Ray manages to open his eyes, to watch Mike crouched naked on the bed, spreading lube on his fingers.

He closes them again, though, when Mike pushes his slicked fingers in. Ray's trying to feel every second of this, because, _fuck_, Sweeney, this is the reason Ray doesn't ask questions, because Mike doesn't _answer_ them. So, yeah, if this is the last he's getting, Ray's gonna feel it all, eyes closed and shivering and feeling and feeling.

Mike pulls his fingers out and shoves his cock in, a little too fast and too hard and _perfect_, and Ray wraps his legs around Mike, holds on tight, rocks up to meet him over and over.

Ray comes before he wants to, before they've been doing this forever, and Mike bites his way up Ray's neck and whispers, "Does it _feel_ like I'm going anywhere, dumbass?" and then he digs his fingers into Ray's ribs and comes hard, for a long time, and Ray finally, finally stops shivering.


End file.
